Labor of Love
Pasture party at Creeksong farm in Ashe County (on Sunday--we still worked on Monday)
Labor day is a day “set aside” to recognize the social and economic achievements of American workers. The irony is never lost on me that most farmers I know work on labor day. That farmers, borne of a fierce independence and social isolation, are not considered part of any great labor “force.” Farmers, who have mostly existed in the lower socio-economic factions of our society, shy away from any recognition of their place as the backbone of said society.
We just plow forward, coaxing life from the land and distributing it among our fellow citizens. We just do what needs to be done. Humble. Quiet. Steady. Content to work “behind the scenes.” We labor in constant companionship with the land. And yes, it’s a labor of love. A love like a long marriage: one that runs deep and true, and whose faded passions meld often into bickering, but whose constituents could never imagine being apart. This is who we are. This is what we do. They are the same.